


The Second Brother

by Secret_Seeker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death, Dubious Consent, Eleven years after Deathly Hallows, Ghosts, M/M, Mates, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Resurrection Stone, Suicide, Werewolves, diaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:12:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Seeker/pseuds/Secret_Seeker
Summary: Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.And so Death took the second brother for his own.After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry isolates himself from his friends to grieve the loss of his loved ones. Trained as an Auror and only involving himself in as minimal a social interaction as possible Harry tries to be a good godfather to Teddy. When Andromeda asks him to go through Remus' old things he comes across something unexpected, a diary. Choosing to read it leads to Harry's life spinning more and more out of control. Looking back on it, perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to walk through the Forbidden Forest, especially when he comes across the resurrection stone. Especially after learning just who Remus is to him. Especially since Remus seems to now be following him.





	1. Obligation

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
> 
> Hey, Harry/Remus happens to be one of my favorite pairings, I always find it such a pity that there aren't many fanfics of these two. So, I hope you enjoy...I have a rough idea where I'm going with this....I think...

_Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him._

_Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her._

_And so Death took the second brother for his own._

 

“Goodnight Teddy.” Harry whispered, bending low over his godson to press a kiss to his forehead. Teddy blinked sleepily through a fringe of lime green hair, offering a smile.

“Night Harry.”

Shutting the door behind him with a soft click Harry sighed, _I wish that I was half as good a father as Remus would have been…what Teddy deserves…so many people died in the final battle, I can’t help but wonder…If I had done things differently would as many people be dead?_

Casting a rueful look at the door Harry descended the stairs, _I don’t visit nearly as often as I should, even if Teddy is too sweet and innocent to ever blame me for not being able to save his parents it doesn’t stop me from blaming myself on his behalf…on everyone’s behalf._

After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry had found that he had significantly withdrawn from everyone he knew, that wasn’t to say that he never socialized, only that it was with great reluctance…or at the very least more reluctance than he used to possess. He was ecstatic about Ron and Hermione’s marriage last summer; it had been a long time coming, he just regretted the fact that he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to connect with anyone anymore.

At first it seemed to just be stress related and grief for all of his fallen friends…and yet there was something else there…or more accurately perhaps an absence. Like there was a void in his chest, a cold dull ache, always at the back of his mind, as if there were something missing, gone before it could have even been acknowledged.

He tried to fill this emptiness with companionship and laughter; he’d even tried to rekindle the flames of a relationship between himself and Ginny. And he’d tried. He’d really tried. But he was _so_ tired. It had been immediately obvious that Ginny had lost interest in him, her once overjoyed exuberance had extinguished into caution and carefully worded questions, dancing around each other in fear of broaching a subject that neither wished to comment on. In the end he’d given up; cut her free, it was for the best. Despite her hurt expression when he told her that it wasn’t working between them, he couldn’t find it in him to change, to be what she needed him to be.

Now all he had was his job at The Ministry as an Auror, one which admittedly he’d achieved placement at a tad unfairly, fast-tracked by his reputation as the conquering savior of the wizarding world. And if he came home to Grimmauld Place, which in itself was far from a comforting home like atmosphere; and drank more than was respectable, then that was no one’s business but his own.

_Who’d have thought that the closest company I’d be keeping nowadays would be Kreacher?_

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he made brief eye contact with Andromeda, he couldn’t hold it for long, and anyone that knew him well enough knew by now that he wasn’t _alright_. Well if you thought about it then you had Ginny to thank for that too, it was apparent that someone had had a lovely little chat with Skeeter at some point. At least he wasn’t a deranged lunatic nowadays, more of a tragic, grief-stricken war hero… _whatever sells the papers_ , he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Teddy though…Teddy was his godson and his responsibility, he hadn’t let himself acquire many of those recently, responsibilities…he’d been subject to too much responsibility. At least he genuinely enjoyed Teddy’s company, he was family, and it wasn’t awkward, he didn’t have expectations, he was just _family._ Andromeda was happy for any help she could get, raising Teddy. Harry wondered if she ever saw Teddy’s namesake in him, Ted Tonks. Yet another name on his conscience. Logically he knew it wasn’t his fault, but it was never his fault, even when it was. _Survivor’s guilt_ they called it, so many people had died, many he’d never met, and he’d been destined to defeat the Dark Lord, the driving force of the opposing side, wasn’t it his _responsibility_ to have ended it, if only he’d known…if only Dumbledore wasn’t such a stubborn bastard…if only he’d have been better…then they wouldn’t have all died. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Snape, Fred, Colin, Dobby, Hedwig…all gone and more.

Regretting was futile, but these days regrets were all he had. There were so many things he could have done better, now he was stuck with the consequences, and that God awful empty feeling, the abyss clawing at the back of his mind insisting that something was missing.

“So, when are you next planning on visiting?” Andromeda asked eventually, when she could no longer pretend that she was examining the clock or an imperfection in the wallpaper.

And that dubiousness, that hurt, even if he no longer tied himself down with responsibility he thought that she would at least know that he gave a fuck about his own godson. She had a hesitant look on her face like she expected him to just take off without a word and live in some remote location, like a cave for the rest of his life, _not that it didn’t have its appeal…_

“Next half-term, when Teddy comes home for the holidays of course.” His voice was admittedly not as reassuring as he’d like it to sound, it seemed defensive. He too, it seemed had caught the same addiction to wallpaper pattern staring as Andromeda.

Andromeda let out a sigh, offering an acknowledging smile, he still found it difficult to overcome her likeness to her sister some days, then again a sane smile on Bellatrix’s face would just be incongruous. She wound a strand of curly hair round her finger idly and nodded.

“They’d be proud, don’t you think.”

Clarification of who she meant wasn’t necessary.

“Yes, Gryffindor just like Re-his dad.”

“My Nymphadora was a Hufflepuff you know, the epitome of loyalty; she was too good, too good for what happened to her.”

Harry swallowed, “I’m sure that even in death she’d insist you refer to her as Tonks.”

She barked a laugh, “Ah, I suppose so.”

And that was it, more silence. Harry shifted his weight slightly, leading to the creak of a loose floorboard under foot. It was admittedly a lovely cottage, small and lively, brimming with flowers and an unmistakable haze of incense that brought back fleeting memories of Trelawney’s divination classroom.

“You know I still have all of their old stuff.”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up.

“I kept all of Dora’s things but they didn’t know who to send Remus’ things to, so I just ended up with them…I was wondering if you would sort through them.”

Harry’s eyes flickered back to her, “I’m not sure I’d be- ”

“You knew him better than I did.” She cuts in.

“Barely.” And if he sounded sullen then maybe he could acknowledge that there was a part of him that wished they had been closer. All of his third year and he hadn’t a clue about how close Remus had been to his parents before the whole debacle with Sirius at the Whomping Willow. Even when he had known, it had always been Sirius that he went to for everything. It had occurred to him later on that Remus may have been one of the nameless, faceless photo donors that contributed to his scrapbook of his parents, when Hagrid had asked around for photos.

“Even still I’d be grateful.”

He eventually nodded reluctantly, “Alright, I’ll bring his things back to Grimmauld,” A part of him knew that the box would most likely end up shoved in one of the unused rooms upstairs that he never ventured into. Seeing her imploring look he raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Was there something else..?”

“W-Would you like to stay for dinner tomorrow? I only have Teddy for a couple of days before he goes back to Hogwarts, next term is ages away and I’m sure that Teddy will appreciate more time with you.” Dark eyes that were much warmer and kinder than her sister’s entreated him to agree.

“Yes, that would be…nice.”

\-------------------------

A simple levitation charm aided him in carrying a heavily taped cardboard box up the rickety stairs of Grimmauld; he couldn’t be bothered to call Kreacher to perform the task for him. He assumed that the size of the box must be deceptive; it probably had an undetectable extension charm like Hermione’s bag had had when they went on the camping trip from hell.

Coming to one of the unused attic rooms he lowered the box carefully next to the antique chairs in the corner, covered up with a dust streaked cloth that may or may not have once been white in the distant past.

He stood and gave it a wary look as if it were capable of biting him.

_What are you waiting for, might as well get this over with. I mean it wasn’t that long ago that I was thinking that I didn’t know Remus that well, I might as well look through his stuff and see what’s worth keeping for Teddy, I might even learn something new about him myself._

_I wonder what they’d all think of me now if they could see me, I imagine Sirius would be disappointed, Remus too, they both valued friendship above all else and I seem to have less friendly ties as the years go by. Merlin I’m beginning to sound Middle aged, I’m only 29._

He contemplated just leaving the box there, much like his growing pile of unopened mail. He shook his head. “Nope, I’m doing this now. No procrastinating.”

_As if saying it aloud makes it more convincing._

He drew his wand down across the tape in a silent diffindo, parting the folds of the box.

He began the laborious process of removing each of the suit bags, containing similar shabby suits and stacking up all of the books he came across.

_Of course there’s a bloody library in here. Remus was evidently the Hermione of the Marauders._

A look of nostalgia crossed his face when he saw all of the old Defense text books, _we never did get a teacher as good as Remus…arguably Snape was competent, not necessarily a good teacher,_ and he didn’t even want to consider the fact that Barty Crouch Jr had had some skill in that area, if somewhat more inclined to the _Dark Arts_ side of Defense against the Dark Arts.

Just then, he saw a small black rat scurry across the worn, once green carpet. _There was a reason I keep Kreacher around for more than mandatory companionship right? Looks like Kreacher will have something new to occupy his time with, I bloody hate rodents._

The surprise of seeing it caused him to straighten up from his half-crouch on the ground; his arm jerking outwards, colliding with the relatively neat stack of books beside him, leading to them falling around him hazardously.

_Just great…_

Peering down, in the dimly lit attic, a frown marred his face. The Defense book he had examined the cover of earlier had fallen open beside him revealing the inside to be hollow. In the centre of the book sat yet another book.

Small and leather-bound, a light brown book with faint golden lettering on the front.

**Diary**

Harry’s fingers hesitated above the book, plucking it from its papery bed gingerly. Curiously he tapped the cover with his wand in order to see if there were any enchantments on it, prohibiting it from being opened. When his careful examination yielded no results he gently unwound the strands of leather wrapped around its midsection and _froze._

 _This isn’t right; I should respect the privacy and secrets of a dead man. Remus was my parent’s friend, my teacher…my friend. He wouldn’t want me to do this._ His fingers stroked the spine softly, absent mindedly. And yet the treacherous part of his mind whispered, the very same part that was often responsible for all of his self doubts _, you have a chance, a chance to truly know Remus Lupin._ And he was so alone; it felt like he was holding a piece of him, as if by reading it he could somehow reclaim a part of his dead friend. _It’s not like anyone will ever know._

_I can do the honorable thing or the selfish thing._

_I’m sick to death of being selfless._

With that he peeled back the cover of the diary, his fingers moving seemingly without his permission, _too late now._

**Dear Diary…**


	2. The Diary Of R.J. Lupin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reads Remus' diary.

**April 1998**

**Dear Diary,**

**What a cliché way to begin, I feel as though with all of my years of education I should be able to find a better way to start this.  Then again what use did my years of education ever serve me once I myself left Hogwarts, it doesn’t matter if I achieved an O in all of my subjects, it makes no difference to anyone else, not for someone like me. Perhaps I should address this to the person I wish to speak to the most, the one that _deserves_ to know all of the things I know, it isn’t like I could ever say this to you in person after all. It’s strange to write in a diary again, I used to find the experience almost therapeutic when  was younger, but it just got to a point where it was unwise to lay all of my secrets down in one place, especially when living is close quarters with others. Now, it isn’t likely anyone will find this, even if they should they wouldn’t be able to read it anyway…not for as long as I live in any case; even still it’s not like I should be able to care if someone learns my secrets in death. So here we go let’s start this again…**

**Dear Harry,**

**Little Harry…James and Lily’s Harry, the little boy with emerald eyes, who once so _very_ long ago looked up at me and with garbled baby speak called me Moony, or _Moo-ey_ rather. It was always one of my biggest regrets that I couldn’t take you in after your parents died, believe me I tried…as if The Ministry would allow a poor werewolf of no social standing, look after The-Boy-Who-Lived, not even all the influence of Albus Dumbledore could help me, all though it wasn’t hard to guess that I was never part of his equation, his end result. He explained the blood-wards and how you would be much safer with your relatives, your _family_ , I suppose that I agreed, I wouldn’t be able to provide much of a home, not really. And if the first time I’d laid eyes on you in twelve years…if you were perhaps skinnier and more solemn than I would have liked then it was no one’s fault but my own, I could have tried harder to see you…I honestly thought you’d be better off without me, hell I wasn’t even your Godfather, not that I’m bitter or anything; James and Sirius had always been the closest of our group. **

**Then Sirius died, you needed my guidance more than ever and I felt so helpless…I held you back when he fell, it was the very least I could do so that you didn’t join him. The agony of watching your last friend die before your very eyes and all you can do is stop the tragedy from worsening. I…should have been there for you when you were younger…I suppose it was my fault that I never knew how to talk to you exactly, when you had lost the last of your family-it just felt wrong to try and _replace_ him. If maybe I wasn’t such a coward, afraid of getting close to you in fear of being pushed away and rejected, then you could have had someone.**

**And here we have the mournful ramblings of a pitiful excuse of a wizard, lamenting his failures…woe is me, I have no other idea how I can express how I feel, I guess that I should partially be entitled to rant and rave about how unfair life is, I’m sure you’ve felt this way on occasion. When you have so much _shit_ to deal with. Ah, I bet that surprised you, that I was capable of uttering profanity, kind, genial Lupin with his chocolate and placid smiles, I am far from being a saint, some days I am even disgusted with myself…some days more often than not. When you’re considered to be less than a person I suppose you have to make up for it by being extra _civilised_.**

**…I was always quite talented at procrastinating. Hurling so much information at a person that both of us forget the original point of the conversation, it is quite a distraction tactic. What was the original point of this? This entry, this diary itself? Maybe I felt like I had to tell someone. When no one is left that you trust enough to tell, who do you turn to? I would so sorely like to tell you, it has taken a great deal of restraint to refrain from doing so. But you really should know. This way, I can tell you…without telling you. It isn’t like you’ll ever read this Harry. It is quite strange to finally be able to tell you, I have a sense of elation…though it will never be enough.**

**Where to start? The beginning would be the obvious answer but there is too much that I would rather omit from my recollections of the past. I am Remus John Lupin, born to Lyall Lupin and Hope Howell…Hmm? Is that too far? Let’s start somewhere else. I am a werewolf. Something that you are well aware of. It’s easy to say, to fit the entirety of this curse, this dreaded impact on my life into one simple word. Weeeerrreeewoooolf, when someone finds out about it they think they know me, all of the implications, treated with disgust or pity.**

**It is seldom that simple. How much do people know about werewolves? I’m certain that you won’t remember anything beyond Severus’ lesson; I doubt you even recall much of that. The majority of werewolves despise wizards, it is reasonable; there is plenty of anti-lycan legislation in place, the constant persecution by wizards doesn’t help. It is unsurprising that so many of _my_ kind allied themselves with Voldemort, you reach a point were any change is better, I suppose they thought things couldn’t get much worse under his jurisdiction, what with all the promises they were likely made. The Ministry don’t exactly endear us to them.**

**As a result the information that wizards have on werewolves in lacking to say the least. Since I chose to live amongst humans at a young age, I was never admitted into a pack, I never learnt things that other werewolves did. I was so oblivious back then. Of course there were some books on the matter but it wasn’t like many werewolves were inclined to sit down with a witch or wizard writer and divulge the deepest and darkest secrets of their species. It was only during the first war, when Voldemort rose to power that I learnt anything of significance about myself, I was sent on a multitude of missions for the Order then, much like now. I had to associate with packs of werewolves and it was only too obvious that I didn’t belong; I was ignorant to all of their customs.**

**So there is a great deal of information about werewolves that those dark creature books you’ll find in the library will lack, my eyes were opened alarmingly wide when I learnt how ignorant _I_ was.  In a way it is my own fault, I was so horrified by my nature that I denied anything that was remotely related to it. Lycanthropy is a dreadful affliction…I never thought that there would be a _silver_ lining, one that wouldn’t inevitably _burn_ me.**

**Then they told me about the nature of the wolf. Werewolves are more attuned to natural magics, with them having such a strong tie with the moon, the form of a wolf has heightened senses which carry forward to the human form of a werewolf. In short we are more sensitive than wizards and witches…apparently they rely too heavily on their own magical core; this limits them in some ways…in a way they are blinded and can’t sense anything beyond themselves.**

**I bet you’re wondering what I’m getting at Harry, (blatantly ignoring the fact that I am indeed talking to myself here) One of the supposed _benefits_ of being a werewolf is that we are capable of sensing the person who’s magic resonates in tune with their own, the same wavelength, the same everything. Their _soul mate_.**

**When I heard about it I wasn’t too impressed to be honest, sacrificing comfort, sanity, acceptance and dignity for pain and humiliation and the miniscule chance of finding your soul mate…well needless to say I didn’t think the benefits outweighed the costs. Out of everyone in the world what would the chances be of coming across your soul mate? What would the chances be that they were even alive in your own life time; it was too miniscule to contemplate. Even if we as a species had an advantage over humans, being able to sense this and having a _slightly_ greater chance of finding the one that completes us, what use would it be? It always felt like it would be unfair, if you were to miraculously find them, they would most likely be unable to feel a mutual pull towards their other half, what is to stop them rejecting you?**

**It seemed a folly to hold out for the one that you’re _supposed_ to be with, what dictates what we are _supposed_ to do? There are a lot of things I’m _supposed_ to do that I avoid on a daily basis.  So…I tried to make a life for myself, not everything that I chose to do was right but I did choose it. **

**Tonks. My wife…the mother of my child.**

**Oh Morgana, what did I do?**

**I know what you’re thinking, yes you were right I shouldn’t have offered my service and left my pregnant wife to help you on your _mysterious_ mission. And Teddy…I was lucky that he didn’t end up inheriting my affliction. I essentially ruined Tonks’ life; she would be considered an outcast for marrying me. I married her for the wrong reasons. I married her out of affection not love, loneliness not joy at her presence. I had spent too long alone and she was fun, so full of life…I felt flattered that she could like me, I did attempt to dissuade her but in the end I didn’t have it in me to let go of anything else. I suppose things just escalated…we got married…I thought this is it…the very best that I will ever get out of life. Then it happened.**

**That which I thought would never happen.**

**It’s an intriguing thing…the magical essence of people, to a degree they are always shifting…developing. Most significantly when a person reaches magical maturity.**

**The age of magical maturity being 17.**

**Then it all clicked into place.**

**The room froze whilst simultaneously everything moved too fast; everything was more vivid, potent. And I could smell the most heavenly scent, the very aroma that would be my perception of amortentia. I felt dizzy, my head stuffed with cotton wool, my whole body responded sluggishly like I was in shock. In that one moment everything changed. I could feel the vibrations of the other half of my soul as it finally settled into a more consistent form, and everything was so much more. I could feel the owner of that soul with my entire being, their scent, their taste…the very feel of them. It was truly intoxicating. Anything I could have felt for anyone else was so hollow and empty in comparison to this one moment in time.**

**And then I saw them across the room.**

**I saw you.**

**Harry.**

**Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. My senses were screaming at me. To hold you, to kiss you, touch you, make you look at me…to make you see me and know that you were MINE.**

**I could have cried. It was too much, all too much.**

**And you just looked up at me, verdant eyes peeking out through ebony lashes…and you were stood there so fucking _nonchalantly_ at Bill and Fleur’s party, so oblivious…so unaware that the entirety of the universe was spinning out of control for me. Your eyes barely passed over me.**

**Then Tonks squeezed my arm, “Are you alright dear, you look a bit pale?” Merlin, I laughed so hard, laughter, choking on restrained tears, because everything was different. I could pretend that it wasn’t but I would know.**

**I had no time to dwell on this great revelation, the patronus came and declared that The Ministry had fallen. And there was chaos everywhere. I couldn’t react fast enough and you’d already apparated away from danger.**

**Everything within me was begging me to pursue you, have you any idea how agonizing it is to deny your very instincts? I had to remain and look after my _wife_ , I had responsibilities.**

**…It would seem that I’ve never fully elaborated to anyone the true impact that my inner wolf instincts have on me. Sirius probably had a good idea about it…it is surprising he never brought it up considering he was never the best at employing tact. Being a werewolf isn’t as simple as being human all month ‘till the day that you’re not. There is no clear separation between states, despite how it appears physically. The wolf has a great impact on the psyche. All of the time I have heightened senses to a degree, more so closer to the moon. Yet every day I can feel it at the back of my mind, more often docile than not…that is unless something catches its attention, like when being threatened I will often feel compelled to draw on these instincts and the line between man and beast blurs ever more.**

**At that moment, my inner wolf, the a culmination of my more _animalistic_ instincts, _Moony,_ was furious at me, fighting to take control and race after you, I could hear it, a voiceless voice, raging at me to give in. Never in my life had I been more grateful for my immense self-control.**

**It felt like forever before I could leave and attempt to hunt you down. And honestly I felt guilty, I really did. After the party Tonks told me that she was pregnant. Her skill of timing is impeccable as her ability to remain upright at all times.**

**I couldn’t just leave her…it was wrong, she was pregnant with my child and it felt so wrong. She shouldn’t be bearing my child; she shouldn’t be my wife, my _mate_. I had an obligation to care for her, I’d married her and now I was faced with the outcome. How could I have had a child with her? I knew that I _should_ unconditionally love my child, even if it ended up as cursed as I but in truth I just felt sick.**

**Then I did something that I’m deeply ashamed of, I went after you. I don’t know what I was honestly expecting; I’d left my pregnant wife and followed you with no plan but to be _close_ to you. Of course you turned me away.**

**I was so angry, I wanted to tell you so badly…the real reason that I could so callously up and leave my wife and child, you were _more_ important. No half-baked reasoning I could offer would convince you, everything within me urged me to stay but you’d just turned me away, denied me without understanding what you’d done, white hot pain flashed through me. I needed to stay but you made it clear I wasn’t wanted.**

**So I returned home to my _family,_ I smiled at my wife and said that nothing was wrong and she believed me. I don’t know whether it was worse that I was so adept at lying to her or that she didn’t know me well enough to tell that I was lying.**

**Teddy was born. I was relieved that he was more like his mother than me, a metamorphmagus and _human_.  It felt like less of a betrayal, less like I was betraying you by being there with them both, if I could think of him as Tonk’s child. I bet you’d be disgusted with me if you knew how I felt, how I could be so cold towards them.**

**Even still, despite how much it had shaken up my world, for once in my life there was something solid, immutable…a connection to you. I could never resent you for it, not when I was so drawn to loving you and needing you that there was no room in my heart or mind for anyone else.**

**The worst thing is that you could never know.**

**You’re so young, so whole…and if we get through this war then you have a whole life ahead of you…one which I have no place in. I remember you dating that Ginny Weasley; do you still have feelings for her? You could never return mine. Magic was indiscriminate and chose essentially a child to be my mate…and I felt compelled to claim you, hide you away from the rest of the world, keep you chained to me and guard you jealously.**

**But I have to be better than that, even if I am not a _good_ person, for feeling this way…for having these insane urges I can be a _decent_ person and never act on them. Neither of us _chose_ this. And I won’t make you choose, either you’d be horrified if you learnt about our connection, that you are _mine_ or you would choose to stay with me out of self-sacrifice…I don’t want that for you, you deserve better…better than me.**

**I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay away and play happy families; maybe if we stay apart long enough, this sensation will fade…or at the very least reduce. I feel so cold and empty; my body is at war with itself but I will endure it.**

**Maybe one day it won’t be enough…staying away…and I will crack,**

**Until then I am ever yours…from a distance.**

 

 

The diary slipped out of pale, shaking fingers, falling to the ground with a clatter.


	3. Funny Seeing You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets a new job

Harry didn’t know how long he’d remained crouched on the floor motionless, eyes staring glassily down at the fallen diary that had slipped out of his hands. His mind was alive, buzzing with thoughts tugging in every direction.

_I…I don’t understand…how? He never…I never…why?_

At present he wasn’t capable of completing one train of thought, his mind was in chaos. As for his emotions the prevailing ones were shock and confusion…and surprisingly betrayal. At the moment he wasn’t certain what he should feel betrayed by, how Remus turned his back on his family despite how much he’d advocated the importance that he be there for his son; sure he was physically present but it was evident he wasn’t there emotionally…at least not for them…Or perhaps strangely he felt cheated, he did deserve to be told, and logically he could understand why he wasn’t told…maybe after being kept in the dark for years by The Order embittered him to secrets being kept from him.

_He could have told me…and I would have listened…I wouldn’t have hated him…_

_What does this mean for me? Remus was my…soul…mate..? I would doubt the conviction of such a statement if it wasn’t for how certain Remus seemed in his entry._

_So…that means that my soul mate is dead…_

_I mean…I shouldn’t feel any worse about his death than before, he is still the same Remus Lupin that I knew…but more somehow. None of this changes anything…Remus and I weren’t even that close, it isn’t like there was any guarantee that we would have become closer if he’d survived the war, he’d probably take his secret to the grave…which he did before I figuratively dug it up._

_When I think about it, maybe I’m only contemplating what could have been, with this strangely acute sense of longing because at present I have nothing…there is a lot of power in what could have been…the very fact that everything could have been different makes what I have now seem so lacking._

_I suppose the idea of a soul mate always seemed ‘fictitious’ that’s probably foolish of me to think that really, if I can accept magic and unicorns and the ability to divide your soul then I suppose the idea of a soul mate isn’t such a stretch…but the idea of Remus…Lupin…Professor Lupin…it doesn’t really compute…he wasn’t the most prominent presence in my life._

_…Now all I really have is resentment…I shouldn’t really…resent him…he was doing what was best for his family…Teddy…Tonks…God Tonks. If he had have lived I would have pretty much ruined all of their lives just by being here. I know he said that he couldn’t hate me…that he ‘loved me’ it all just seems too…abstract. This diary…I can hardly believe it belongs to the same Remus I knew._

In a haze of confusion Harry plucked the diary off the floor, frowning he flicked through it, seeing if there was any more entries. It seemed that only the first few pages of the diary were filled. Flicking to the back he blinked in astonishment as he took in the vicious scribbles on the last few pages, he could trace the words written disjointedly with no order, sequence or proper orientation on the page, a quill must have snapped under the pressure of practically carving the words into it.

**HaRrY                         MiNe            tAkE                     OuRs                          FiNd                      DeStRoY**

**MiNe                         MiNe                                  MiNe                            MiNe                MiNe**

Harry shuddered and closed the book with a sharp snap, taking deep breaths he opened it and stared at the page again. _How can he have written this? He seems half out of his mind…what would he have done if we’d come across each other again after he made me Teddy’s godfather? Why did he even make me Teddy’s godfather? Did he want me to feel like Teddy was my son too?_

Thinking back on it Harry realised that Remus often described the distance between them as painfully hollow and cold, with an icy chill of realisation he focused on the feeling within his own chest…a feeling that had been present since the defeat of Voldemort, something he’d thought could have been attributed to once dying or just the utter feeling of hopelessness and guilt due to all of those he couldn’t save…now it seemed like it was something else.

_Remus…Remus…Remus_

He felt a dull answering ache, shivering he wrapped his arms around his knees. _Is that what this sensation is…the loss of my soul mate…Remus said that the human partner wouldn’t be able to feel the bond…he never mentioned not being able to feel the lack of the bond…_

Harry slowly stood up, replacing the diary in the hollowed out book and placing it back in the box. _I can’t deal with right now_.

Swiftly rising he left the attic room and shut the door, pulling it closed behind him perhaps a little too hard. Descending the stairs he met Kreacher’s large golf-ball like eyes as he trailed past with a mop.

“Would Master like some supper? Master is particularly fond of shepherd’s pie and treacle tart for afters.”

“No thank you Kreacher I’m not hungry.”

He saw what seemed to be concern flash across his withered face as he began to pull at his curved nails anxiously. “But Master you had no supper the night before, is Master…”

“Kreacher I’m not hungry, please leave me alone.” Harry snapped.

Kreacher lowered his head sadly, “Of course Master.”  And disapparated with a crack.

Harry continued on to his room feeling shame well up in him, he liked to think that he and Kreacher got along quite well, commanding the elf with such a sharp tone of voice left a bitter taste in his mouth, but right now he just wasn’t in the mood for anything or anyone.

\-------------------------

He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning; the duvet twisted in his clenched fists and his hair was strewn across the pillow messily. He couldn’t recall the specifics of his dream, only the feeling of something being out of reach, the dream faded into obscurity.

As Harry dragged a comb through his hair his eyes focused blearily on something behind him in the mirror. A pair of amber eyes glowing with a feral light of possessiveness. Blinking rapidly and pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes he refocused on the mirror, seeing nothing there he spun round, only to be greeted with the same nothingness.

_Great, now I’m bloody hallucinating._

_I need to stop obsessing and just forget about that stupid diary, Remus is dead. I never had those kind of feelings for him when he was alive, I’ll be damned if I start feeling that way about him now that he’s dead._

_Whatever might have been, could have been is now irrelevant. Just forget it all._

A scratching at the window alerted him to his post delivery, his owl Ara kept pecking impatiently, waiting for him to respond. With a sigh the weary Auror opened the window. He shot a look at the glossy black owl when she bit his hand for responding too slowly.

He just hoped it wasn’t another letter from Ron and Hermione, since he’d been promoted to the leader out of a group of four other Aurors there hadn’t been an opportunity to interact with Ron who’d ended up in another group with a somewhat lower position than himself. This of course had started up another round of passive aggressive jealousy that Harry couldn’t be bothered to deal with; he decided to just stay clear until he cooled down, besides up to and immediately after their wedding they’d been interfering too frequently with his life. Of course he was touched at their concern and in a way grateful for their company but he couldn’t help the fact that he’d rather be left alone, so maybe he could admit that he was drawing this latest spat out for his own convenience.

Hermione herself was working in a completely different sector of The Ministry; trying to pass legislation in favour of Creature Rights, as this was a good fifteen floors away from Harry it was rare for them to cross paths during work hours. Free time was spent either confined to his office or his house, except for the occasions he visited Andromeda and Teddy.

Teddy who was in his first year of Hogwarts, it was Autumn break and Teddy would be going back the day after tomorrow, the next time he’d be home would be Christmas. That reminded him…Andromeda had invited him to dinner that evening… _how fun_.

Turning the letter that had been in Ara’s beak over he froze in surprise, it had the Hogwarts wax seal on it. _Hmm nostalgia._

**Dear Mr Potter,**

**I would be exceedingly grateful if you could lend me an hour or so of your time on November 3 rd at around 7:00pm if you have no prior engagements; there is a matter of business that I wish to discuss with you.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**

_Well that was brief and straight to the point. Wait…what day is it today?_

Casting a tempus charm he glared at the response with irritation, _It seems there must have been a delay, today is the third._ He sat quietly wondering whether he should go or not, if he chose to it’d definitely be too late to have dinner with Teddy and Andromeda…but the way it was worded sounded important, perhaps he could postpone dinner until tomorrow, Teddy wasn’t going back until the day after tomorrow in any case. Making his decision he wrote a brief note to Andromeda, excusing himself from dinner, he bit his lip as he watched Ara fly away, dark feathers a sharp contrast to the pink hued clouds. That was the third time in a row that he had asked to _postpone_ dinner, not that he was keeping a tally or anything.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Teddy, he just seemed to be appalling at social interaction nowadays, he only saw Teddy during holidays, he barely felt he knew his godson. He just wasn’t sure how to act around him, should he be a fatherly figure, an older brother, a friend? Harry felt he should be more like Sirius was with him but he could seldom summon the enthusiasm, if he was _himself_ he wasn’t sure that that would be a good role model for Teddy. Yet the excitement on his face whenever he saw Harry was heart-warming and it was nice to talk with him and pretend that everything was normal, that he was normal.

\-----------------------

“Mr Potter, if you would follow me to my office.” Is the only greeting that Harry receives from McGonagall at the main entrance, her lips pressed into a severe line as she takes in his appearance, shirt slightly rumpled and glasses askew.

“I feel like I’m about to be given detention for something.”

Her lip quirked upwards slightly, amusement flashing across her face. “I assure you H-Harry that I only mean to ask a favour of you.”

_So it’s Harry now is it._

“Please take a seat.”

It was strange to be back in Dumbledore’s office, a place where so many things had happened, somewhere he had returned year after year diligently after surviving another encounter with Voldemort. There was a significant lack of those strange silver instruments that used to clutter the desk. Turning his head he could see that Dumbledore’s portrait was empty, most of the other portraits seemed to be focused on McGonagall and himself eagerly anticipating whatever she had to say.

At the clearing of her throat, Harry immediately looked up.

“So there was something you wanted to talk about.”

She nodded before hesitating, “Yes, there was something that I’d like to discuss with you Harry.” She paused, “It’s been a long time hasn’t it, since you’ve been back here.”

Harry pursed his lips thoughtfully, “Well yes…” He trailed off giving her a questioning look; it wasn’t like McGonagall to make idyll small talk.

“And how is work at The Ministry?”

“…Alright I guess…” _Where was this going?_ “As good as can be expected under the iron tight rule of Kraven.”

Gabriel Kraven was a particularly nasty piece of work. Kingsley had been a fair and competent Minister for Magic, who genuinely cared about rebuilding the shattered remains of the magical community, and at first everyone was fine with that. That was until Kraven ran for office. Apparently healing and kindness had no place in the path of vengeance. Kraven was more concerned with hunting down the remaining Death Eaters, which in itself was a good goal, but on top of that he made attempts at persecuting every and any pureblood family, he was responsible for a lot of raids that he’d been on recently. Anything dark or even a murky shade of gray raised alarm bells. On the surface this seemed reasonable, after all they’d just survived a war against the darkest person in existence, leading to so much devastation.

The problem was that Kraven was incredibly charismatic; the public was sympathetic to his cause of purging the world of the dark. Harry thought that it was a bit short sighted to burn all of the books on dark magic. What if they had to deal with dark curses? They’d have no reference to reverse any of the damage caused. Many gray families who remained neutral during the war were under scrutiny, as for the children of Death Eaters, even the really young children of Death Eaters were held under a magnifying glass. Kraven seemed to be waiting in the shadows to point a finger at them for the slightest infraction of the rules.

In any case he seemed to be channelling the late Barty Crouch Senior, in his fanatical purging. Harry was all for keeping people safe and rounding up those who were causing harm to others but actively pursuing people with somewhat shady reputations to that degree was a tad excessive. During Kingsley’s brief run in office he’d removed the placement of dementors in Azkaban and established rules on equality. Kraven seemed to be doing everything in his power to bring them back, to increase punishments and generally be a holy terror. And the worst thing was that the public endorsed this, they wanted retribution for the atrocities of the war, Kraven prayed on this, his popularity was based on getting revenge for those who were victimised by the purebloods.

Harry could recall reading somewhere that Gabriel Kraven was a muggleborn and that his family had died during the war. If his frequent imprisonment of the shady wasn’t enough he seemed determined to push dark creatures to the very fringe of society, _after all dark obviously equals bad._ This was so clearly a folly, the main reason that Voldemort gained so much support in the first place was due to the discrimination of dark creatures by the wizarding world.

He had listened to many incensed speeches by Hermione on the matter when he could drag himself to lunch.

Harry himself had tried to do something about it; it was a well known fact that he used to be a friendly acquaintance of a werewolf. _Moving swiftly on from that train of thought._  To a degree he had had an impact, after all he was ‘The Saviour’ but there was only so much he could do, he wasn’t involved in the political side of The Ministry. He was in correspondence with a number of politicians who opposed Kraven so his opinion was made public in order to gain support. Of course Kraven’s supporters had made efforts to sway his stance, when this failed they resorted to the old worn out plan ‘b’ of discrediting him.

“Ah yes Kraven.”  It would appear that McGonagall too wasn’t particularly fond of their newest Minister either. “Listen, the other week I received a letter from Miss Granger, she expressed some concern over your well being.”

Raising an eyebrow, “My well being?”

McGonagall looked uncomfortable, her hands coming to rest on the top of the desk, “She believes that you are not happy in your current position, something about being over worked and stressed, with the way the Ministry has changed, decidedly not for the best she believes that your job may become…les satisfying.”

“In what way?”

She looked at him imploringly, “Surely you can see where this is leading, soon Aurors will be given free rein to arrest whoever they please on the pretence of justice, as long as Kraven satisfies his childish need for revenge the laws are going to worsen, you’ll have to arrest innocent people.”

A sick feeling swirled in Harry’s stomach, “Are you suggesting that I try to run for Minister myself, I really don’t think I’d be a good option.”

She shook her head, “No Harry, although that would be a positive outcome you have never been fond of positions where you’d be brought directly into the public eye, I wouldn’t ask that of you. All we can hope for is that the world sees sense before it’s too late, alienating the vampires, werewolves, giants…” She trails off, “Well, I wanted to offer you a new job.”

Harry blinked in surprise, “A job, what kind of job?”

“Since there has been a large ban on many books on magic and we are in the process of adhering with the new rules for the past few months we have had a vacancy for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

Harry paused, “You’re already part way through the school year, I haven’t had any experience or qualifications for teaching.”

A smile flitted across her face, “On the contrary Harry your defence group would indicate that you have an aptitude for teaching others.”

_It seems that even in death I seem to act parallel to Voldemort, a position that he coveted now offered to me. She does have a point, I can’t say that I agree with all of the orders that we’ve had to carry out…at least Hermione can’t keep nagging me about not interacting with anyone…maybe being back here I’ll feel more like my old self. Moreover I’ll have more opportunities to interact with Teddy._

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

\----------------------

After agreeing to McGonagall’s offer he’d spent the rest of the evening wandering around Hogwarts and reacquainting himself with his very first home. He’d had the opportunity to talk to some of his old teachers like Flitwick and Slughorn, and it was strange, like going back in time. It was odd to think that in just a few days he would be referred to as Professor Potter, DADA teacher. And for a moment he could forget the previous evening and the dull ache in his chest, there was too much to distract himself with here.

After spending so long there it had become dark outside, McGonagall insisted that he stay at the castle until morning as there seemed to be a fault with the floo system, the runes had partially eroded away. He would have used a portkey to return back to Grimmauld but he would have had to go into the Forbidden Forest to reach the edge of the wards, portkeys wouldn’t work on the school grounds. This itself wouldn’t have been a problem but apparently with the new persecuting legislation many of the creatures in The Forbidden Forest were understandably hostile towards humans, apparently it would be safer to wait for the floo to be fixed.

So Harry started to make himself comfortable in the Teacher’s quarters, his room was accessed through a painting of a sleeping dragon in the DADA office, adjoined to the classroom.

He cast a critical eye around the room; everything was in subdued but warm shades of tan and mocha. A plain single bedroom lay off to the right.

_I wonder if Remus ever slept here when he was the DADA teacher back in third year._

With a sigh of exasperation he pressed his hands against his forehead, feeling a headache building. _I need to stop; I need to forget that I ever read that blasted diary._

With one last thought that was definitely not about Remus he settled into bed.

\----------------------

Harry’s eyes snapped open in shock. _What the hell, it’s freezing._ His eyes scanned his surroundings and to his amazement he found nothing but trees all around him. The trees were covered in a layer of frost, puddles were frozen over and he could see his breath, an icy cloud in front of him. _Is this the Forbidden Forest? How did I even get here? And why on Earth is it this cold? It shouldn’t be this cold._

Wrapping his arms around himself and tugging his sleeves down over his hands he could only feel a sense of relief that his wand was there in his pyjama pocket. _This is ridiculous._

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something moving, immediately on alert he held his wand out in front of himself in anticipation of an attack from literally anything from Mandrakes to Cerberuses.

The sky began to darken; gaining a stormy quality, thick fog seeped into the forest through the trees. And then he heard it, a deep rattling rasp.  

_Dementors!_

Thin wraith like creatures with billowing robes of blackened rotting flesh, drifted closer; there were at least five of them drawing near.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

Harry yelled, the familiar thick white smoke poured from the tip of his wand forming….not a stag. A large four-legged creature, that was definitely not a stag, erupted from his Holly and phoenix feather wand. Prowling forward it launched itself at the dementors, driving them away forcefully as the brilliant light radiating from it caused them to shriek and retreat.

At last they were scared away, leaving Harry alone in the forest with a huge iridescent wolf patronus.

_Wait, what…wolf?_

_What the fuck? That isn’t my patronus, my patronus is a stag._

Swallowing heavily Harry began to recall the only occasion he remembered where a person’s patronus had changed. Tonk’s patronus changed to the form of a wolf when she fell in love with Remus.

With Remus.

Remus.

_No No NO! This is so messed up; I don’t even like Remus like that, what the hell is going on?_

His head began to spin. Feeling dizzy he sat down on the ground; the soil was moist and clung to the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms. _It feels like I’m still dreaming, this doesn’t feel real._

Harry dug his hands into the ground, fisting a handful of grass, trying to centre himself into reality. His fingers brushed against something smooth and cool. Curiously his hand closed over it and brought it out of the grass for inspection.

_No way._

In the palm of his hand sat a small black stone with a crack running through it, distorting an all too familiar image.

The resurrection stone.

_That’s impossible. What are the chances of me just happening to sleepwalk and waking in the spot where I dropped the resurrection stone? Things like that don’t happen, that’s too much of a coincidence._

“Harry.”

 

A soft voice whispered behind him, low and familiar with a husky quality to it.

Harry didn’t have to turn around to identity the voice.

 

“Hello Remus.”


	4. Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Remus chat, Harry reads a book and thinks about his past interactions with a certain Minister.

He breathed out slowly, watching his icy breath shimmer subtly in the cold morning air; daylight was breaking weakly through the heavy canopy of the trees above.

_If I don’t turn around it isn’t real. I didn’t really hear his voice, I’m wrong. I have to be._ Yet rationally his mind whispered _you’re holding the resurrection stone, he’s the one you’ve been thinking about the last two days the most. All you have to do is turn around._

Part of him wondered if he remained facing away from the _issue_ if it would disappear. A larger part of him was rather inclined to attribute it to part of his imagination, his guilt and recent obsession that he was denying.

Very slowly Harry turned around. Before him stood Remus Lupin, leaning slightly against a tree with an intent look in his amber eyes. The edges of his figure seemed somewhat blurred, his face and clothing radiated a soft light giving him an ethereal look. Making eye contact was difficult, as Harry’s hesitant emerald eyes met Remus’ he was faced with the impulse to avert his gaze, the words of the diary rang hollowly throughout his head. Managing to break Remus’ gaze his face flushed and he tilted his head down.

“H-How…how can you be here?” He finally stuttered out.

He heard Remus let out a soft sigh, “I never thought I would get a chance to speak to you again, not after last time when I was here with the others, you called to me…with that stone, Death’s stone…so I came. Harry.”

The last word he spoke, his name, was drawn out slowly like a gentle caress, an almost reverent tone to his voice. Never had Harry heard anyone say his name like that before.

Reluctantly looking up at him again he was mesmerised by the, for lack of better term, ghostly quality to his image, not entirely opaque but solid enough to clearly see.

“Remus.” He started, unsure where to go.

“Harry.” He responded in kind, his lip twitching slightly in amusement. “I do assume that there is something you would like to speak about.” His tone of voice hinted at that which he had been trying to forget so desperately.

The younger man shook his head rapidly, stepping backwards. “No, no this was an accident; I just found the stone…and you…” He trailed off.

Remus straightened up from his position against the tree and took strong, purposeful steps towards Harry. “I see.” His shoulders were set stiffly, despite the familiar and comfortable clothing he wore, tattered brown robes, Harry felt a tinge of intimidation. “No other reason then…nothing at all?” He breathed softly; large golden eyes were narrowed slightly as he seemingly stalked towards Harry.

Harry was quickly being backed up against an old, withered oak tree, his back colliding sharply, resulting in him letting out a startled yelp. “N-No, not at all.” His words came out rushed. When an arm came out caging him in against the tree his eyes widened in shock. Even though Remus wasn’t actually touching him in any way he could feel a sort of vibration, a build up of static when he leaned close. He had the knowledge that if he tried to move away he could just as easily move _through_ him.

By now Remus’ face was extremely close to his own, his other arm coming out and pressing his palm against the wood on the opposite side of him. “Are you certain about that?” He whispered. Harry began to freak out when he could feel warm breath brush across his face, it felt so real. And for the first time in so long he became aware of his heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through his system and a feeling of _wholeness_ that had been absent for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like. “I’m not altogether sure that you’re being truthful Harry.”

Licking his lips anxiously, “I don’t know what you mean Remus. I’m happy to see you of course, I just didn’t expect that I ever would see you again, the chances of m-”

“Shh.” A finger hovered just over his lips, almost close enough to touch but not quite, his other hand was still firmly planted against the tree behind him. “You know that that is not what I speak of…would you like to try again?” There was fierceness in his expression that seemed to demand obedience.

_What am I doing here, it isn’t like he can know anything…I can end this anytime._

“I don-”

The vibrations caused by being in such proximity to the ghost of Remus began to increase, it felt like angry static.

“Harry.” His voice was firmer as he reprimanded him. “Perhaps you need me to say it for you hmm? Did you enjoy reading my diary?”

_Oh shit._

“I don’t mind you know.” He continued, his hand traced the air in front of his cheek in the façade of a caress. “Not as much as I thought I would. I thought in death I’d be beyond caring, that I’d have rest…apparently I was wrong.” He murmured the last part to himself, “Nevertheless part of me is both pleased and distressed that you know, right now more so pleased.”

Harry felt bewilderment radiate through him, “How can you know? You’re dead Remus, how could you possibly have any idea about the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done?” He laughed without mirth.

A small smile played across his lips, “For irony’s sake I suppose you could say that I’ve been watching over you.”

Harry jerked away, It was too much, too close, too everything. In his attempt to move away he went straight through Remus’ arm. His whole body seized up as he scrabbled away, it was nothing like passing through one of Hogwart’s ghosts-buckets of icy water…no a rush of heat flooded through him, the place that had made contact with Remus, burning right through his chest. He wasn’t sure what was more unsettling, the fact that he had never experienced anything quite like that or the fact that to an extent it felt pleasant. Incredible surging warmth that lingered, curling pleasantly in his chest from the brief contact of phasing through him.

In all fairness he was freaked out, not only about the truth of Remus but the idea that since his death he had likely being watching him, how often? All the time? What did he think of him? It was unnerving to think that as he went about his everyday life Remus had been watching everything silently.

“Why are you acting like this Remus? I understand about the _thing_ but how can that be responsible for how you’re acting now? You weren’t like this before.” Harry insisted frustratedly as Remus tilted his head enquiringly.

“ _I_ am different to how I was before, as are you also. I assure you that had I lived you would have born witness to quite a spectacular change in my behaviour, even if I had had the will to continue concealing it, now I see little point in pretending. I know, you know.” There was a hard edge to his voice.

“What is it you want Remus?”

Hurt flashed across his face, “What is it that I want? What is it that you want? I believe it was you that _summoned_ me.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything Remus, except perhaps understand. I never had any idea when you were alive that you…well, it doesn’t matter Remus, had you lived nothing would have happened.”

A positively feral light gleamed from his eyes, “You seem adamant about that Harry but no one can ever fully comprehend that which might have been.”

Harry stepped towards him carefully raising his arms in an almost mock surrender, “You went to the trouble of hiding it in the first place it’s obvious that you thought it would have been for the best, and now that I know it isn’t like anything will come of it.”

“Have you ever heard of Pandora’s box Harry, there is a price for sating one’s curiosity?”

“Just because I may be your ma-you know…”

“ _Mate_ Harry.” He corrected, possessiveness creeping into his voice as he pursed his lips. “Can you honestly tell me that you’re going to drop the stone again and just forget about me? Because know this, even if you can’t see me _I can see you_.”

A shiver crept up his spine, “Have you any idea how sinister that sounds Remus?”

He shrugged, “You can delay this as long as you like but you can’t escape death, one day you will face this. Our souls are one and mine will continue to follow and wait for yours, with or without my consent I will be drawn to you, you can choose to accept that or not.”

“Well I don’t have to face it now.” Harry said bitterly, “How is it fair that I have no choice, that you have no choice but to do this, I have already been subjected to prophesies beyond my control, souls…fate…it isn’t fair. This is my life, what I have left of it; I won’t have it be dictated by things outside of my control. I don’t love you Remus, hell I barely knew you when you were alive.” Harry regretted letting his anger at the world, at everything seep through, he hadn’t meant to be so cutting towards Remus but he was at a loss for what to do, _how can I make the best of and accept an impossible situation?_

Now he could see genuine anger on his companion’s face, “I thought you’d be grown up enough now to stop acting like a child Harry, I’m not demanding anything from you, only cluing you in to inevitability, you can’t ignore me forever.”

“Just watch me.” He retorted.

“Oh I will.”

Harry released his clenched grip on the resurrection stone, letting it slip between his fingers back to the ground. _Where it belongs_. As soon as he stopped making contact with it the image of Remus flickered out of existence leaving only a sense of surrealness.

_“Even if you can’t see me I can see you.”_

 Those words rang in Harry’s head as he stared ahead blankly, _is he watching me now? Does he ever stop? This was all an absurd set of coincidences, but what’s most disturbing is that even if I hadn’t managed to summon him there’s the knowledge that he’s been watching me all this time. He stated before in his diary that despite this whole ‘mate thing’ he wasn’t going to act. He’s dead. What does he possibly hope to achieve by ‘waiting’ for me? What is it even like to be dead, do my parents have regular meetings with him or something?_

He tilted his head down to glare at the fallen stone, the sun hitting the smooth sheen of it, glinting innocently up through the grass. _Even if Remus is watching me he can’t do anything, he can’t interact with me, he has no influence over me. What right has he to demand that I pay attention to him and accept him when logically nothing between us could ever work out? I am alive, I have a life._

_Maybe this should serve as a wakeup call; I’ve spent to long feeling so much remorse for all those I couldn’t save, feeling useless about history repeating its self and fearing that if I truly intervene I’ll screw things up even more. My friends hardly recognise me, I’m like a bloody inferi going through the monotonous motions of my job and not questioning the Ministry because I was just so glad that the fighting was over, I didn’t want to put myself in the position of leading others and being part of the rebuilding process because I was obviously such a great leader during the war…everything just got out of hand and nothing felt real anymore. Now…I have a sense of clarity, I can think properly, I can’t go chasing after the ghosts of my guilt, I need to live…and Remus…Remus I’ll deal with when I have to._

Glancing around it seemed to Harry that he should logically be far enough away from Hogwarts wards to apparated back to Grimmauld Place. Sucking in a breath Harry submitted to the familiarly unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a pipe before taking in the dim appearance of his house.

\---------------------

 

It was with great caution and reluctance that Harry searched the Black Library for books on necromancy. _Kraven would have a heart attack if he saw this bookshelf, this is as dark as it gets. I’m not going to comply with a stupid Ministry law passed by an incompetent idiot hell bent on punishing others for his own satisfaction and popularity._

Harry could still remember the first time he met Gabriel Kraven; he’d just been elected as the new Minister for Magic, replacing Kingsley. He’d watched his entire campaign with boredom and was honestly surprised that he’d amounted so much support so quickly considering before he tried running for the position no one had heard of him.

_A tall man in his early thirties stood outside the door to his office. With a flick of his fingers the door swung open for his visitor. Kraven walked languorously up to his desk, running his fingers through carefully curled golden locks, brilliant blue eyes met his own as he beamed at him cheerfully._

_“Harry Potter, what an honour it is to meet the saviour of the wizarding world in person, I must say that you have been a great source of inspiration for me.” He held his hand out confidently._

_Harry rose from his desk reluctantly, it had taken him a second to recognise the new Minister, even with numerous posters of his face plastered everywhere. Shaking his hand firmly he saw no reason to alienate him; he had enough enemies as it was. There was a sliver of hope that he would end up being better than Fudge._

_“Minister, it is nice to meet you also.” He shifted uncomfortably when Kraven didn’t immediately release his hand. Kraven looked even more delighted._

_“There were a number of things that I would love to speak to you about Mr Potter; perhaps you would consent to having lunch with me.” He looked hopeful._

_At first Harry had been apathetic if a tad annoyed to have his lunch taken up, to all intents and purposes Kraven seemed like an over eager fan of his who managed to stumble into office using his looks and passionate speeches about muggleborn equality. Harry hadn’t given him a second thought, and indeed throughout lunch Kraven had spent the entire time flattering Harry and reciting a publically known version of his life story to him, he had just gritted his teeth throughout it and accepted that Kraven was just another politician with more money than intelligence._

_That was before he brought up the Malfoy family._

_“The war with You-Know-Who has lead me to thinking about lots of things recently, the Ministry was too lenient on the public allowing them to possess questionable items, magic is constantly monitored but I don’t think it was enough. Had the Ministry taken threats more seriously You-Know-Who wouldn’t have had nearly as many allies. The whole system was corrupt, I’ve managed to rip the seats of power from beneath many a pure-blood family. We’ve left the Dark alone too long to fester, had we acted sooner and eliminated all of the threats we’d have had the advantage, don’t you think?”_

_Harry looked up from his salad, “What do you mean? I’m all for the fact that the Dark were getting away with too much before but don’t you think elimination is a bit far?”_

_Kraven rose a delicate eyebrow, “Not at all, the Dark threatens our neatly organised system, Dark creatures, Dark wizards…all running around unaccounted for. I’m not suggesting that we kill all the Dark creatures they just need more thorough monitoring, I’m not going to sit back and watch our world lapse back into chaos. Death Eaters tortured and threatened many people and Azkaban simply isn’t big enough, our taxes our labour all goes into supplying the prisoners there, they are undeserving of our mercy. What mercy did they show us?”_

_“What are you getting at?”_

_“Simply that the way things are at present cannot continue to be, all of You-Know-Who old allies remain at large, you yourself as an Auror are charged with the duty of taking them down, those we have captured are irredeemable and still present a threat to society should they escape, you’ve seen the conditions of Azkaban surely it would be a kindness to get rid of them.”_

_Harry had swallowed thickly, “By get rid of…you mean kill?” His voice had taken on a harsher tone, “You’ve only just been elected Minister for Magic, I can’t see how the rest of the “Wizengamot will agree with this, killing them would make us no better than them.”_

_He could feel the tense energy radiating off of Kraven as he bristled with annoyance, his control over his magic weakening. “Be rational about this Harry.” Harry had scowled at the use of his first name from the near stranger. “The only way we can stop this from continuing is to abolish the threat, we get rid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s forces and no one opposes us, the Dark is a threat, it always has been. What was the name of that Death Eater kid you went to school with? Malfoy wasn’t it? I have his parents imprisoned in Azkaban, what was he like at school, unpleasant I imagine. I’m offering us, offering you a chance to change history, people like them are a danger, we have the power to stop them.”_

_Harry was beginning to feel ill, what once seemed to be a fairly harmless idiot was sounding more deranged by the second._

_“The Dark tried to crush muggles, muggleborns underfoot, anyone they saw as unworthy, they would do it again in a heartbeat, they will never learn. I plan to catalogue all of the Dark creatures, werewolves, vampires et cetera, you Harry have seen the atrocities the Dark side has committed I believe you are the best person to help me, to help me guide us all into a new era of light.”_

_Harry had had enough of it, “No.”_

_Confusion crossed Kraven’s face, “What do you mean no? This is part of your purpose Harry; you’re our saviour, the icon of Light. Surely you want to exterminate the last threats to us; we have the power to do it, to rebuild our society correctly. Who was that muggleborn friend of yours who helped you take down You-Know-Who, surely you want a better world for people like her, where they don’t feel like second class citizens. The Dark are a disease Harry.” He paused to look at him imploringly, “We will wipe them from history, their books their legacy until there is nothing, the Dark is too much of a temptation if we let it persist it will sway others to its cause. The two of us will have the support of the public, they want retribution for all that they’ve lost, we have to give them something or everyone will turn on each other.”_

_“You’re no better than Voldemort.” Harry spoke quietly, his voice dangerously soft._

_“Excuse me?” His eyes flashed with anger._

_“You’re building a campaign of hatred that will only lead to more death and destruction. The whole point of the war ending and electing a new leader was to rebuild society, to make amends and understand one another, to encourage amity. What you propose will alienate your enemies even more so, you’re going on a purging, bag and tag spree for wizards and creatures because you feel hurt about whoever you’ve lost in the war, that’s no foundation to build a new society on Kraven.”_

_“They killed my mother, they raped and tortured her because she was a muggle, how can you suggest that they can be redeemed, they need to be put to death so we can end it all and move on, it’s the only way. Why should we waste our resources on supplying Azkaban with anything?”_

_“The actions of few don’t speak for the entirety, you’re going to blame every Dark creature simply for existing based on a prejudice you hold against a few Dark Wizards? How can that be right? You can’t brand and track them nor can you kill off everyone that disagrees with you.”_

_Kraven’s face had become stony and closed off, “I think you’ll find that I can, I am the Minister for Magic, I have an overwhelming amount of support. The public wants someone to blame and curse, they want vengeance and the Dark are now in the minority, anyone who was once affiliated will never be trusted again. You can choose the right side or you can remain in the shadows and watch, either way it will happen.”_

_“You forget that I too have quite a large amount of support.”_

_He scoffed, “Do you know how to use it?” He sighed before smoothing out his expression and pasting a smile on his face, “I’m doing this for you too, haven’t you lost enough to the Dark? I’m giving you a chance at revenge, wasn’t Lucius Malfoy there when you lost your dear godfather. We can have anything we want now, I’ve assured it. You will come round to my way of thinking Harry, that I am certain of.”_

_That crack about his godfather was uncalled for; he clenched his fist staring straight ahead. “I don’t think so Kraven. I really don’t.”_

The whole memory was accessible from his pensieve now; staring at the books on Dark magic had brought that all back. Gabriel Kraven the dangerous idiot with a vendetta against the Dark.  Yet another person among many who had lost too much and decided to retaliate rather than heal. And Harry was paying for not stepping in sooner. All he could do nowadays was use his inherited seat in the Wizengamot to vote against the more outlandish bills they tried to pass, his opinion had been requested on occasion but with how the papers and the majority of society were now favouring Kraven he hadn’t as much sway, instead he helped support Kraven’s opposition.

Now, the reason Harry was looking for books on necromancy was to gain an understanding of how _close_ exactly the realm of the dead was to the realm of the living, in an attempt to see if he could prevent the unwanted visits of the dearly departed.

Harry slammed the book he had last been studying back onto the shelf, bending the cover in the process as he gave an exasperated sigh, so far it appeared that there would be few ways to cut Remus off, interactions between different planes of existence were difficult.

**Since the dawn of time one subject which has specifically intrigued human kind is death and the ability to traverse the boundary between the living and dead. What must first be understood is the notion that the world isn’t structured into two separate realms, ‘living’ and the ‘dead’ instead there is much intricacy and conditions in place. First there is the Corporis, beings of physical matter, body and soul dwell, in death they discard their mortal shell which returns to the earth, the soul moves to the next layer of existence Ipsas, an overlaying world to Corporis, a hairbreadth away from touching, in which they can view their former life as well as continuing to view the lives of the ‘Living’ making peace with their demise. The souls in Ipsas transcend to the Verum where they may once again walk amongst those who have passed, wherein they gain true knowledge, souls are in a state of revelation and recollection, coming to terms with the manner of their existence, their purpose, this is a place of perfection often thought of as ‘heaven.’ Souls that cannot come to terms with their passing and cannot transcend to Verum remain in Ipsas, prolonged existence in a state of neither fully dead nor fully alive leads to degradation of the soul unless infused and maintained by a source of energy, souls recalled to talk with the living must return to Ipsas in order to do so as it is the plane closest between life and death, souls that linger in Ipsas can commune with the living but souls in Verum must be summoned to Ipsas. Souls cannot maintain communication from Ipsas with those in Corporis as it is unnatural for the pure energy of the soul to be tainted with other matter whilst not protected by a body. If a soul lingers in Ipsas for too long without moving on to Verum the soul breaks down into pure energy when not feeding on a source. Often souls in torment remain in Ipsas, there is no such plane as is referred to as ‘hell’ it is but a self imposed existence of the mind, the energy of ruined souls breaks down and infuses with the rest of existence, strengthening the planes and forming new souls, a system of recycling. Souls in Verum may also choose to be reborn into physical bodies in Corporis but much like the degraded souls in Ipsas they lose their past individuality and memories, starting a new.                                                                                                  –Becker and Lackey**

_Ah I see, what evil dark magic this is, the maintained existence of this book is so obviously a threat to society, I mean a new Voldemort may rise because of this ‘Dark’ book. And had I rolled over when Kraven demanded everyone destroy books of a darker nature I would be left completely ignorant._

_So, to conclude, to the best of my understanding I am at present in Corporis. My parents…and Sirius are in Verum? As for Remus…I’m not positive, he was summoned along with the rest of my family during the Battle of Hogwarts, did he used to be in Verum? If he’s watching me now then he must be in the inbetween place…Ipsas? So Ipsas is kind of a spiritual overlay of our realm, that would explain our minimum ability to interact…if Remus remains there wouldn’t his soul eventually break down…fucking hell I’m messing up people’s lives even from beyond the grave._

Harry hadn’t realised how long he had been reading in the Library, it was nearing dinner time, _I promised Andromeda I would be over to visit, how am I going to look Teddy in the eye after what happened earlier?_ With reluctance he packed away and prepared to floo to the old Tonks residence.


End file.
